


It's Dark Out And We're Wearing Sunglasses

by Vizhi0n



Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gore, Negan's potty mouth, Pranks, Self-Insert, Smut, Threesome, lame shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-09 07:19:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10406832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vizhi0n/pseuds/Vizhi0n
Summary: The Hilltop needed Carson. Maggie needed Carson. I wasn't a doctor, but I was a good liar. Now let's just hope Negan doesn't find out the truth.





	1. Chapter 1

“So, if someone gets shot, you want to make sure that they don’t bleed out, right?” I peered up from my book, watching as Harlan rearranged his office. I was curled up in the corner, legs crossed as I tried my best to read through one of the many medical books stacked around the room. It was easy enough to remember, and I found myself desperately wishing that I wouldn’t have to use this information.

Harlan’s office had become a second home. I hadn’t meant for it to happen. I liked the place - it was small, cozy, quiet…a total opposite from the outside world. Harlan was nice, and we enjoyed each others company. He allowed me to read as I wished.

“Yep,” Carson replied. “An infection is the biggest thing you need to worry about.”

I wrinkled my nose. I wasn’t squeamish, but stuff like this was still gross. I’d seen enough walkers to become immune to most gore.

“What if you’re out there?” I said. “With no supplies, not stuff to clean the wound…”

“You’d best hope that you find someone.” 

I nodded in agreement, going back to my book. I had no clue how long I’d been reading, and the sound of the trailer door opening snapped me out of my trance. I looked up, expecting it to be Gregory or Maggie, but instead I was greeted with Gregory and a trio of burly men, the tallest of the three stepping forward.

_Oh, here we go._

It took me a moment to realize that these were the Saviors. It took me another moment to recognize the tall guy with the pornstache. Sam or Simon or whatever his name was - I’d caught him antagonizing Gregory a few weeks prior.

_Maggie and Daryl? Where…_

_They’re fine. Maggie’s smart._

“Dr. Harlan Carson?” Simon raised his eyebrows. I saw Harlan nervously look away before answering firmly.

“Yes?”

“Congratulations, you’re moving up in the world,” Simon clapped his hand against Harlan’s shoulder, grinning. I stayed in my corner, debating whether or not to move or say something. None of them had noticed me yet, and it was probably best I kept it that way. For now. Simon sighed and said happily, “You’re coming with us.”

_What?_

_Oh hell no!_

I shut my book and stood. Simon’s eyes darted to me, as did Gregory’s. I stayed silent for a second, before saying, “Hi. I’m, uh, Rachel. Yeah. Why do you need two doctors over at your place?”

Simon met Harlan’s eyes, frowning. Silence hung over the room and Harlan didn’t seem to get the message. Simon sighed, throwing up his hands and saying, “I’m…sorry, is the look on my face not enough? I’ve been told that I’m a very expressive guy.”

_Yeah, no shit, honey!_

“The _reason_ ,” Simon continued, stepping closer, “that we need two doctors is because our previous doctor is… _indisposed_.” 

Harlan grit his teeth, and I could see him slightly shaking as the realization dawned on him. “Did my brother piss someone off and get himself killed?” 

“Unfortunately so,” Simon frowned. “Ugly stuff. My condolences.”

 _Oh, shit._ This was already heading south. Gregory wasn’t doing shit to try and dissuade Simon from taking Harlan, and I could tell that he wasn’t going to. Not now, and probably not ever. I shot him a glare, and he looked as me and shrugged.

“ _Yo_ ,” I interrupted before Simon could say another word. I stepped towards the group, pressing against the wall as the trailer seemed to become even more crowded. “I’m a doctor.”

Simon raised his eyebrows. “ _And_?”  
“I’m the _better_ doctor,” I said. “Harlan actually trained me. Anything he knows, I know. I can also hold my own in a fight, so if shit ever goes down, you won’t have to worry about losing me.”

“Is this true, Gregory?”

Gregory, for once, looked good. He lied. The rat actually _lied. In a good way!_

_Fucking yes!_

“Indeed. She’s one of our best. Harlan is already situated with most of his patients,” Gregory glanced at me. “It would be much easier for all of us if Rachel were the one to go.”

_Bye, bitch! Ain’t gonna miss you!_

Simon met my gaze. His dark eyes were narrowed, but a grin was still plastered across his face. Without looking away, he addressed Gregory smoothly. “I can trust you, right, Gregory?”

“Of _course_.”

“Good,” Simon clapped his hands together. “Then I believe you. You haven’t let me down, yet. C’mon, girl!”

Harlan’s eyes were red-rimmed. His fists were clenching and unclenching, and I quickly reached out to squeeze his shoulder. As Simon exited the trailer, gesturing me to follow, I murmured, “They need you here. _She_ needs you here, okay? I’ll be fine.”

If there was going to be a war, Hilltop needed a doctor. A _competent_ doctor. 

Harlan nodded, watching as I hurried after Simon. I matched his stride, letting out the breath I’d been holding and saying, “Can I go pack?”

“You don’t have to. We’ll have everything you need,” Simon glanced down at me. “Oh! Do you like ice cream? We’ve got almond _gelato_!”

_Okay you do like ice cream._

_Shit_.

* * *

 

Sanctuary couldn’t have arrived soon enough. I hated sitting in the back of a truck while a bunch of dudes leered at me. The place was massive, its exterior grim. It looked more like a prison than a home.

_I get to meet Mr. Big-Dick himself, I guess._

I didn’t expect him to come out and greet me. Negan. But lo and behold I saw him step from around the corner with a massive grin on his face - a rather pretty face, might I add. I kept quiet for a bit, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel intimidated. I had to put on a show or else, ya know…

_Into the gutter with ya!_

Negan’s face fell when he saw me. He looked more befuddled than angry, his arms dropping to his sides as I hopped from the back of the truck, hearing Simon’s door slam shut as he walked around to give his leader an explanation.

“What the fuck? You are _not_ Harlan _fucking_ Carson,” Negan said, analyzing me slowly and methodically.

“I mean, I could be.” 

“You’re _not_ ,” Simon nudged my arm. He shoved his hands into his back pocket and added, “Negan, this is Rachel. She’s Hilltops doctor. There were two of these assholes all along!”

“You have a fucking Phd, girl?” Negan tilted his head.

_If the P stands for pussy, then yes._

“I should, I was, uh, in school for it when the world went to shit. I’m glad I found Harlan - he helped me out. Helped me learn more stuff. And things.”

“Hot _damn_ ,” Negan licked his lips, stepping closer. And closer. Close enough that I could see the growing stubble on his cheeks and feel the heat radiating off his body. He smelled like leather and some nice cologne. I could see the flecks of green in his brown eyes. He said, flashing a dazzling smile, “I _like_ that!”

“Okay, bro, uh, you’re going to have to back up like at least a foot and a half.”

Negan stared, his upper lip twitching. I quickly added, “It’s for your own sake. When I’m nervous, I fear fart. I can’t help it so I just wanted you to, uh, know. Just in case. Since we’re just meeting it would be awkward if I ripped one while you were standing right here—”

“Bring her inside,” Negan spun and hoisted Lucille against his shoulder. “I’ll give her the tour, and then she gets to fucking work.”

_Bad first impression?_

_Maybe. He also looked kind of into you._


	2. Chapter 2

“What happened to Carson’s brother?”

“I tossed his traitorous ass into the furnace over there,” Negan pointed with one leather clad finger before motioning for me to stay close.

“ _Word_ ,” I nodded, glancing over at Negan. I wanted to get on his good side. Quickly. Before he caught on that I _wasn’t shit_ and used Lucille to turn my head into a plate of mashed potatoes _._ “That’s, uh, gangster.”

“Bet he deserved it,” Simon said from behind me. We stopped on the catwalk that wrapped around the main interior of Sanctuary. The place was _dope_. A bit grim, shady, but…a perfect place for the “bad guys” to reside. I liked the indoors, anyway. Always had.

“That fucker did,” Negan nudged me and switched Lucille to his opposite arm. “I have shit to do, wives to screw, you know the whole fucking deal. Can you show the new girl around for me? Get her all situated?”

_No! Attractive man, don’t go and leave me with another…attractive man!_

“My pleasure,” Simon pursed his lips and turned to me, slapping a hand on my shoulder and leading me away. As we walked, I tried my best to memorize as much as I could. If I needed to escape, I didn’t need my dumbass brain fucking up on me. That would _suck balls_. I felt Simon squeeze my shoulder and say, “Maybe later you and I could, you know, sit down for some of that gelato I told you about.”

“I’d be down with that.”

“Good,” Simon beamed. He had nice teeth. Nice, perfect, straight, white teeth. They reflected his persona pretty well. Nice, straight, and white.

_Well, maybe not straight…_

“Isn’t gelato just a fancy word for ice cream?” I thought aloud.  

“It’s ice cream made in an _Italiano_ style,” Simon quipped.

“So a fancy word for ice cream.”

“Yeah, basically,” Simon shrugged, glancing down as we approached the end of the hallway and what I assumed to be the medical area. He stopped, leaning against the doorframe and looking me up and down. “Do you have any medical conditions?”

“Are we about to take the Pacer test? Why does it matter?”

Simon tilted his chin and said, “I’m just asking, just in case we need get to supplies for you.”

“I’ll evaluate myself later because I’m the doctor. Do _you_ have any medical conditions?”

 _Goddamn._ He looked stuck. I could see Simon’s eyes flitting around wildly now, as if he needed someone to come and rescue him.

“Yeah, not so tough now, huh? And before you say anything, no, I don’t have any conditions,” I licked my lips before opening the door to the medical area myself. The place was tidy, spacious, with a wide window. Simon followed me inside, watching as I paced around the room.

“Everything you need is in here,” Simon shoved his hands into his pockets. “And if you need _more,_ just let me know.”

_I shouldn’t need more, buddy. I’m pretty sure I’ll last…what, two, three days before Negan catches on?_

“Thanks,” I met his gaze. “This is… _good_. I like it.”

“You have a _stellar_ view,” Simon scampered over next to me, eyes on the window. I did have a view, and it was of some trees and buildings. National Geographic material, for sure. _If only I had camera._

_Is sarcasm lost through text?_

_Meh._

“It would be nice if, once we built this place up a bit,” Simon continued, “we put in a pool out back. I can do the plumbing,” he grinned cheekily, winking. “Give everyone a well-needed break.”

The door creaked open. Negan was standing there, a grin on his handsome face. I quickly looked as Negan’s voice shattered the silence.

“I honestly thought I was gonna walk in on some freaky shit,” Negan grimaced, those his look morphed into a rather sleazy smile. “You two are getting all fucking nice and cozy. That’s good. You’ll need to be comfortable for when Simon get’s himself shot in the goddamn dick again.” 

“That only happened _once_ , and the bullet _grazed_ me. My penis is fully functional,” Simon exclaimed. I raised my hands in a placating gesture, rummaging through the drawers and surveying what supplies I had. All the while, Simon and Negan watched, impressed by how dedicated I seemed to be.

_Key word here: seemed._

“We got fucking _lucky_ , Simon,” Negan said, and I heard his companion hum in agreement. “She ain’t fucking wife material, but _goddamn_ …”

_“Did he just call you ugly?_

“Goddamn _what_? Finish the sentence,” I turned, unable to hide the agitation in my tone. Negan’s jovial expression disappeared almost immediately, replaced by something akin to hostility.

It wasn’t quite hostile enough, however.

“I was going to comment on what a fine fucking ass you have,” Negan growled, stepping forward. I saw Simon go to move, but hesitate and hang back as his boss stared me down.

“You ain’t put no fear in my heart,” I tried, and failed, so sound brave.

I felt the sharp barbs of Lucille graze my cheek as Negan pointed the bat at my face. “Fucking _careful_ how you speak to me.”

Half of my brain was screaming at me to just submit. Get on my knees. Cry. Bitch out.

The other half, the spitfire half, was screaming at me to lunge and curse. Roast his ass. Do _something_.

“It’s true. I’m not scared of you. I’m…I want to help. I want to contribute. But I’m not going to be scared,” I lied through my teeth, clenching my fists and desperately trying to settle my beating heart. I saw Simon’s dark eyes on me the entire time.

Negan rested Lucille back against his shoulder, smirking before jerking his chin towards the door. “Just what I wanted to fucking hear. You’re rooming next to my fucking place. Simon, show her there.”

I was almost upset to watch Negan leave. Almost. He had a nice face and his presence made me feel all tingly inside. I could say the same for Simon, and I was glad he stuck with me. I kept my head ducked, trying not to meet anyones eye.

“You, uh, still down for some gelato?”

I stopped. I’d almost forgotten - Simon was staring at me, eyebrows raised as awaited my answer. He was close to me, but it was a nice closeness. He, like Negan, smelled of faint cologne and aftershave.

_Am I down for some gelato?_

_I’m down for some other shit too._

I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms. “I am.”

“My room?” Simon pointed, lowering his voice. I could see that his neck and face were flushed as he scratched the back of his head. “Negan won’t mind. I’m supposed to be showing you hospitality, anyway.”

“Gelato date, huh?” I raised my eyebrows. Simon tensed up, looking almost _flustered._ I felt bad. “ _Kidding._ Kidding, dude.”

“Nah, I don’t mind,” Simon nodded. I craned my neck, staring up at him as he licked his lips. “You know, I bet I could guess your favorite flavor.”

“How many girls have you used that line on?”

“Just one,” Simon smirked. If I had to pick…I’d say you liked _vanilla_ the best.”

“You would be correct.”

Simon grinned, nodding his head before reaching out to grasp my wrist. I giggled at his touch.

_His hands are warm. I bet they’d feel nice in your—_

_Stop it!_

Maybe. One day. He looked into me. Maybe, like two percent into me but two percent was decent enough! Maybe I could keep him entertained. Keep him from sending Negan on my tail if he found out that I wasn’t a real doctor.

_Wishful thinking._

I followed Simon into his room and did not look back.


	3. Chapter 3

“The serving size for this says four,” Simon stared at me, plastic spoon in hand. I glanced up at him, raising my eyebrows as he leaned back in his chair. His room was spacious, but cozy. I liked it. Not to intricate, not to simple.

“I have a philosophy,” I waved my spoon at Simon, licking cream from my lips. “If the serving size says four, its two. If it says six, its three. Etcetera.”

“You like food?”

“Yeah. It’s the only thing I can rely on to be good to me,” I stifled a laugh. Simon was still watching me, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “This shit is good.”

“We have more,” Simon said. “And…let me think, liquor, too.”

“I only like fruity stuff,” I shrugged, letting out a belch which tapered off into a whimper. I ducked my head, embarrassed, before realizing that Simon was laughing.

“ _Excuse_ you,” Simon chuckled. I nodded, wiping my mouth and setting the carton of gelato on the table. When I looked up, Simon was licking his spoon.

“So,” I said slowly. “What’s your story?”

“My story? I don’t have one,” Simon replied boldly. He fiddled with his spoon, not meeting my eye. “What about you?”

“I don’t like talking about myself.”

Simon made a face, standing and walking towards his cabinet in the corner of the room. He craned his neck, peering at the extensive collection of bottles on each shelf. He grimaced and said, “Don’t have any fruity stuff. Sorry. You’ll have to go ask Negan.”

“I’m not an alcoholic, like Gregory. I’ll be fine.”  
“You sure?” Simon replied, glancing over at me. He shut the cabinet door and walked over, pulling up a chair so he could sit even closer to me than he was before. “I’m trying to make sure you feel at home. You don’t have to be afraid.”

“The gelato won me over,” I shrugged. I wasn’t sure how I felt about him being so _close…_

_You like it!_

_He smells nice._

_We know!_

“I want, uh…I don’t know what I want,” I looked up and down at Simon. “You go first. What do you want?”

Simon pulled away a bit, scratching the back of his neck. “Gelato was step one. We did that…”

“Uh, shit,” I knew what he was implying. I could see it in his eyes. Or could I? I was bad at flirting. I was terrible at most things, but flirting or taking hints especially. Looking into Simon’s dark eyes, I leaned forward and brushed my lips against his as softly as I could.

Simon immediately responded, smiling and gripping my hand. I pulled away, a bit dazed. It was taking me a while to process what had happened and what was, currently, happening. Simon’s big hands were on my waist, then my chest and neck, fingers skimming across every exposed piece of skin. He kissed me again, and I felt his facial hair brush against my lips.

_He kisses like a goddamn saint. If saints could kiss._

“You okay?” Simon brushed his thumb across me cheek, dipping his head so he could peer into my eyes. “Hey, uh…don’t…if you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to.”

_Is he asking you to fuck?_

I opened my mouth to reply, but the door beat me to it. Simon glanced up, unperturbed as Negan slid into the room, Lucille draped across his shoulder.

 _“_ Si _—_ are you two about to fuck?”

_That’s what I want to know!_

Simon stood, rigid as a board. He refused to meet Negan’s eyes, gathering the gelato from the table and hurrying towards the mini fridge in the corner of his room.

“I can fuckin’ leave, Simon,” Negan grimaced and gestured to the door. “If you wanna pound her pussy like a Cherokee drum, I sure as fuck won’t stop you.” 

_The fuck?_

_This man is high on some wack shit._

“ _Negan_ ,” Simon hissed, sounding rather embarrassed. Negan laughed and clapped his friend on the shoulder, nodding his head towards me.

“I want to see the fucking _doctor_ for a second. I’ll let you two continue your gelato fuck-fest tonight.”

I stood, hesitantly shuffling behind Negan. Simon gave me a simple nod, his hand brushing against mine as he walked past. As soon as the door to Simon’s room clicked shut, Negan leaned in close.

“ _Goddamn_. Did you see the way he was fucking _looking_ at you?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

Negan stopped, swinging around to stare down at me. He said, “Really? Fucking really — his dick looked ready to play pop goes the _fucking_ weasel. You didn’t notice that shit?” 

“I wasn’t looking at his dick.” 

“You fucking _should_. I heard it’s pretty fucking big,” Negan nudged me in the ribs, and I curled in on myself even more. Sensing that I was uncomfortable, Negan rolled his eyes and said, “Kidding. I’m fucking kidding, alright?” 

“I just don’t know how close we are to breaking that barrier,” I stammered. 

“Like, when it’s appropriate to fart or burp in front of you. When can I make jokes about you looking like the brother from _Everybody Loves Raymond?”_

_Asking the important questions, here._

_“Honey_ ,” Negan squeezed my shoulder, the look on his face soft and sincere. “Trust me. You can fucking fart in front of me _any time.”_


	4. Chapter 4

My desire to maintain order paid off the next day. It was around lunchtime when some of the Saviors returned from their routine visit to Hilltop. I could see the caravan pull up through the gates, and I saw Simon hop from the first truck.

He was shouting. Gesturing wildly. Even from the window I could see one of the Saviors clutching his arm in agony.

_Shit._

I steeled myself, before searching for what I assumed I would need. Bandages, a towel, disinfectant…The door opened before I could even gather all the supplies/ Simon and another Savior named Arat entered, hauling a bearded, middle aged man between them.

They draped the man across the table. There was a lot of fucking blood - more than I was used to. It was on the man’s chest and shoulder and neck. He was twitching, mouth open in a silent scream.

“Go get Negan,” Arat nodded at Simon, smoothing back her dark hair. She was panting, surveying the man with a worried gaze. When she saw me standing, frozen, she barked, “Don’t just stand there! Do something!”

“Is he bit?”

“I don’t know,” Arat smoothed back her hair once more. I could see her fingers twitching - the movement must have been a nervous tick of hers. “It happened way to fast—”

“It’s fine,” I interrupted, my hands moving on their own accord, checking for a pulse. It was faint.

Shit.

“Hand me that cloth,” I jerked my chin and Arat obeyed, tossing me the white fabric. I pressed it against the wound on his chest, my other hand reaching for the one on his neck. I was elbow deep in blood, my legs shaking so hard that they were rattling against one another. The man shivered, trying to speak. No words could leave his mouth.

My fingers felt the teeth marks in his neck. Arat was staring at me with tired eyes. I stared back for a moment, transfixed. She was really, really pretty.

_Focus! Goddamn!_

“I could try…shit,” I snapped my bloodied fingers. “I need a match. Something to make a fire…” 

“What? He’s bit—”

“I _know_ ,” I snapped my head up. Arat was motionless, her head ducked in defeat. Glancing down at my patient, I checked his pulse once more.

Nothing. I was fondling a corpse.

Angrily, I reached for the scalpel resting on the edge of the table. Without looking, I drove it through the side of the man’s head. I let out a breath as heavy footsteps approached and Negan entered the room alongside Simon.

“ _Goddamn_ ,” Negan breathed. I tossed the scalpel aside, reminding myself to clean it later. I’d have to clean the whole damn room, I realized. There was blood everything. There was blood on me - on my arms, my shirt and pants

“I tried,” I shrugged, making a face. “He was…bit. It was to late.”

“We didn’t know he’d been bit,” Arat stepped closer to me, glancing over at Negan and Simon. “She’s right. There was nothing she could do.”

I extended my arms, glancing down at the wet, sticky blood plastered to my skin. When I looked up, Negan was staring at me, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Simon looked saddened, but was keeping to the shadows.

Finally, Negan sighed and said, “Fucking c’mon. Simon and Arat, take Victor’s body outside and burn it. Make sure nobody fucking sees - I’ll let his wife know about what happened tonight.”

I timidly followed Negan down the hall, once again keeping my head ducked. He wasn’t at all in a jovial mood, and I saw his grip on Lucille tighten.

_This could be just an act._

_He can’t be mad at you. Arat was right - you didn’t do shit wrong!_

Negan pushed past a set of double doors. The washroom was spacious, and Negan gestured for me to sit before he handed me Lucille and went over to one of the metal sinks.

“Uh, am I in trouble?”

“Fuck no,” Negan grinned. He held a wet cloth in one hand and some soap in the other. Water splattered against the tiled floors as he walked over and sat next to me, raising an eyebrow. “Arms out.”

“Why are you doing this?” I winced when he gripped my limbs and began wiping away the blood, rather methodically. The washroom was quiet, and for what seemed like forever, all I could focus on was the sound of Negan wiping the blood from my arms.

“Why would I fucking _not_ do this?” Negan replied, not looking up. I set Lucille on the bench next to me so he could move on to my right arm.

“You tryin’ to smash?” I resisted the urge to laugh when he finally looked up and smirked. “C’mon. Be honest with me.”

Everything is on the fucking table,” Negan licked his lips. “Although, with you? I wouldn’t want to fucking piss off Simon.”

“I’m not with Simon,” I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not ‘with’ anyone, and I’m not going to be.”

Negan chuckled, wiping my arms with more vigor and scooting in closer. I could feel him exhale as he clicked his tongue and lifted his chin.

“What the _fuck_ am I going to do with you, doctor?”

“Nothing,” I said shakily.

“I guess what I fucking mean,” Negan’s movements slowed. “Is what the _fuck_ do I want from you?”

“You want…uh, my enthusiasm?” I cringed. “My wicked sense of humor?”  
“What I want is something that you fucking want, too. I can fucking see that shit in those pretty eyes of yours. You look at me the same way you fucking look at Simon. I _know_ your fucking secret.”

My mouth went dry. Negan was onto my next arm, scrubbing away. Negan sucked in a breath and said loudly and proudly, “You are a dirty fucking girl. You want both of us!”

_He’s not wrong._

I tried to pull away, but Negan’s grip on my arm kept me seated. He dropped the cloth into my lap, taking a moment to just _look._

“Christmas has come goddamn _early_ ,” Negan laughed. “And here I was, thinking you were so _fucking_ innocent. You want two dicks in the same hole, don’t you?”

“N-no,” I finally mustered up the courage to stammer. “That’s not what… _no_.”

“Oh, so you want both of us, but not at the same fucking time? Damn. That just takes away half the fucking fun.”

“I _want_ it,” I blurted. “I, uh, do. I think you and Simon are both hot.”

“And what do you want to fucking do about it?” Negan unzipped his jacket and shrugged himself out of it. I stared at his broad chest, just waiting for him to take the white shirt off, too. He didn’t.

“If you want it, you’re going to have to fucking _work_ for it,” Negan said. I let out a breath, my fingers brushing across the soft fabric of his shirt before I gathered the strength to press my palms against his chest. I could feel his heartbeat flutter beneath my touch, and my fingers easily slipped beneath his shirt to run across his skin.

_Can you be a whore if you’ve never had sex before?_

_And now you’re surrounded by hot dudes and hot chicks and all you want to do is fuck?_

It took me a split second to remember that this was Negan I was kissing, not Simon. Negan was clean shaven. But, like Simon, Negan knew how to kiss. Negan was also larger than me, stronger. He knew what he was doing while I awkwardly flailed and clutched at him like a fucking barnacle.

“I’m going to bend you over and _fucking fuck_ the _shit_ out of you,” Negan said against the corner of my mouth. I gripped a fistful of his hair as he caught my lower lip between his teeth, smirking the entire time. I was practically in his lap at this point, and I was trying _not_ to get to ahead of myself.

_Your ass is thirsty._

“You’re right,” I admitted. “I want you and Simon. Both of you.”

“Right fucking now?” Negan nipped at my neck, and I pulled away. “Just say the fucking words.”

_Thirsty, right?_

_Thirsty enough?_ “

I don’t…I don’t know.”

“Marry me,” Negan said suddenly. I feel silent, still sitting in his lap with my arms around his neck. “That shit you saw today? You won’t have to fucking see that again. I’ll have Simon go to Hilltop and grab Harlan—”

“No,” I said firmly.

“Why the fuck not?” Negan tilted his head to the side. He seemed genuinely curious, not at all angry. “I’ll fucking let Simon join in on the fun.”

“I don’t do that wife shit. I don’t like it. I also don’t play well with others, and I don’t like sharing,” I slid from Negan lap, adjusting myself. Negan remained sitting, neck and face flushed. He was staring up at me with longing eyes. It was Simon all over again, I realized. Sighing, I mumbled, “Plus, you said I’m not wife material. Whatever the fuck that means.”

“I’ve changed my fucking mind.”

“Out of what? _Pity_?” I sneered. Negan reeled back in surprise as my tone turned rather vicious. “Oh, _look_ our doctor is poor and ugly and easy.”

“Where the fuck did you get that mindset?”

_Myself._

“Chill the fuck out,” Negan said slowly, raising his hands in a placating gesture. He stood, leaving his jacket abandoned on the bench. His hands snaked their way down my forearms and to my hips. He leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. “I’m not going got fucking force you to become a wife. It’s your choice.”

“I’m saying no. I’m sorry.”


	5. Chapter 5

_You’re saying no because why?_

_You’re scared?_

_You don’t do that wife shit, homie. You know that already._

_“_ Hold still, dumbass,” I grit my teeth and brushed a strand of hair away from Simon’s forehead. He whined, trying once again to sit up. The poor man was a fucking _bitch_ to patch up. He was impatient, always in a hurry. I sighed and forced him back down again, saying, “Let me finish this.”

“I fell,” Simon grunted. “Trying to get away from one of those undead fuckers. I’m not _dying_.”

“I know,” I quipped, wiping away blood before slapping on a bandage so hard that Simon hissed in pain. He hadn’t even bothered to come see me - Arat had informed me that he was injured. Several strained muscles, a cut on his head, and a possible concussion.

_Maybe he was avoiding you?_

_Nah._

“There’s blood on your shirt,” I said, tossing the rest of my supplies into my bag. I was going slowly - I didn’t want to leave. I like Simon’s room, and I liked Simon.

So, I would make excuses just to stick around.

Simon pointed at the bloodstains on his white shirt, scowling at me before simply removing the article of clothing. I nearly dropped my bag as my eyes immediately shifted to the hard, rippling planes of his stomach.

_Shit! Shit shit shit shit!_

_He’s ripped!_

_You’re staring - now he’s staring - Abort mission! Abort—_

“Thank’s for patching me up, doc,” Simon licked his lips and leaned forward. “Looks like you’ve earned yourself some _gelato_.”

“I’m not hungry right now.”

“You sure?” Simon smirked. “I have more than enough.”

I tossed my bag into a chair, rolling my eyes as Simon gestured to the mini fridge in the corner of his room. My eyes, once again, drifted to his bare chest. I was antsy - I could feel my cheeks heating up and my legs become weak.

“You look nervous. Something wrong?” Simon raised an eyebrow. He was smirking. That damn _smirk._

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

I rolled my eyes, glancing at the closed door. Tentatively, I stepped closer until I stood between Simon’s legs. The older man pressed his lips together, hands lingering above my hips.

“If you want it, all you have to do is say the word.”

_Yes._

_So you said no to Negan but yes to him?_

I didn’t reply. My actions did enough talking — I boldly lifted my shirt and slid it over my head, staring down at Simon and smiling back. I stroked the stubble on his face with my palm, leaning into his kiss. My fingers eagerly worked on his belt, tossing the article of clothing aside before desperately tried to slide his pants down his hips. He chuckled against my mouth, leaning back as I huffed and tossed his pants into the small pile of clothing gathering on the floor. His erection strained against his boxers, and I couldn’t resist the urge to stare.

“Take those of,” Simon instructed, gesturing to my panties. His voice was low and desperate. “Now.”

I gnawed on my lower lip, shimmying closer before sliding the thin fabric down my legs. Simon watched, lips parted. I hopped onto the bed, straddling his waist and meeting his steady gaze.

“If Negan knocks on my door right now I just might have to kill him,” Simon breathed, sitting up and taking me in his lap. He palmed my breasts, lips brushing across my nipple. “ _Shit._ ”

I could feel his cock through his pants. I made a small noise, resisting the urge to grind my hips as I felt a familiar wetness begin to seep from within me. Simon pressed a needy kiss against my mouth, adding, “ _Shit_ , baby. Help me get this off—”

“Yeah,” I whined, nearly ripping away his undergarment. Simon whistled, gripping my wrist and kissing me once more.

“Slow down. Slow _down_ ,” Simon murmured. “We don’t have to go so fast. I want you to be comfortable with this.”

“I know,” I whispered, my nose brushing against his cheek. “I want you.”

Simon rested his forehead against mine for a moment. I raked my nails across his heaving chest, feeling the muscle flex beneath my touch. He laid back as I tugged off his boxers before gripping the base of his cock. My lips parted as I leaned down and gently flicked my tongue across the head of his dick.

Simon replied by making a low, guttural sound. I liked it. I saw him glance up and grin as I wrapped my lips around his cock once more. My free hand splayed across his lower stomach, fingers prodding at the firm flesh. I felt his muscles tense as I ran my tongue up the underside of his dick before sucking lightly on the head, my tongue drenched in his wetness. I bobbed my head several times, savoring each low, animalistic sound that tore its way from Simon’s throat.

“So beautiful,” Simon murmured, tugging lightly on my hair. I sat up, meeting his lust filled gaze and crawling to him so I could plant a gentle kiss against his mouth.

_Gentle. Ha._

_He’s not going to be gentle with you tonight._

“Don’t go easy on me,” I murmured, and Simon nodded.

_He didn’t._


	6. Chapter 6

“Rise and shine,” Simon’s mouth pressed against my neck. I shifted, groaning and snuggling closer to him. I didn’t want to get up from beneath the covers and face reality. I was comfortable, wrapped in Simon’s arms.

He chuckled, pulling away and gently squeezing my arm. I rolled my eyes and slid from the bed, stretching my limbs before gathering my clothes. I could see Simon staring at my body, eyes wide, lips slightly parted.

“I’m up, I’m up,” I rolled my shoulders and sighed, dressing quickly. “Negan is going to wonder where I am. I have _work_ to do. Can’t have one of ya’ll dumbasses dying, now can I?”

I yelped as Simon’s palm slapped against my rear as I exited the room. I pressed my lips together, scolding him with my finger. I saw him leaning against his doorframe, arms crossed over his bare chest. I was giddy my head ducked as I hurried towards the medical room.

I was surprised. None of the saviors visited. There was nobody I needed to patch up, nobody I needed to put down. I was mainly pacing and muttering to myself most of the day, desperately hoping that Simon would at least check in with me as evening approached. I was running inventory when I heard the door open, and I could only turn excitedly, expecting it to be Simon.

It wasn’t.

“Well _hello_ to you to, _doctor_ ,” Negan lightly chewed on his lower lip, looking me up and down. “You look good. And by good I mean well and thoroughly _fucked_.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but closed it when I realized the secret seemed to be out, at least in Negan’s mind. He was grinning like a shark that had just discovered its next prey.

I rolled my eyes and continued to arrange my supplies. “Yeah. Guess I do.”

“Well?” Negan spread his arms wide, Lucille in hand. He stared at me, eyebrows raised. “How the fuck was it?”

“ _Really_?” I stopped, sighing and crossing my arms. “If you want to know what it’s like to fuck Simon, why don’t _you_ just fuck him?”

“You think I haven’t fucking tried?” Negan smirked, letting Lucille rest comfortably against his shoulder as he entered the room, shutting the door behind him. He’d lost the jacket, and I watched as he squeezed Lucille’s handle, the veins in his wrist prominent. “Don’t _assume_ shit, Rachel.”

“I’m _not_ ,” I looked down at my tools, feeling Negan’s presence getting closer and closer. When I finally looked back up, he was staring down at me with that damn _smile._

“I’ve never succeeded in getting into Simon’s pants. So tell me, _how_ the _fuck_ _was it_?”

“Good,” I mumbled.

“ _Louder_ ,” Negan began pacing. He rested Lucille against the table before me, standing on the opposite end as I continued to count and arrange my supplies. I heard the scratch of a chair against concrete, and in my peripheral I could see Negan taking a seat. I was fidgety, making sure not to meet his gaze. For a long moment the room was filled with the clinking of medical supplies and nothing else.

Finally, Negan said loudly, “Are you going to fucking talk or what? I’m not wasting my fucking time by being here, am I?”

“You are,” I bit back. “Just… _fuck_.”

“Fuck what?” Negan said. “Fuck _Simon_? _Yeah,_ I fucking heard you two last night, going at it like a bunch of fucking _animals_. You have a goddamn fucking _mouth_ on you when you’re getting fucked, babe,” he leaned forward. “What the fuck did he feel like, huh? Did he stick it up your asshole? Did he treat your pussy like a fucking lady—”

“Did you come here to antagonize me?” I slammed the last scalpel in its place, grabbing the plastic box and heaving it up. I stomped over to the small cabinet in the corner, angrily shoving the supplies back where they belonged.

Negan was _laughing._

_Fucking bastard!_

“You’re good a making jokes, now it’s my fucking turn.”

“Simon and I aren’t a joke,” I said angrily. “I happen to actually _like_ him.”

“Oh _shit_ ,” Negan said mockingly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had a fucking _crush_ on my right hand man—”

“Is it a crush if I had his dick in my mouth last night?” I scowled.

Negan leaned back, chest heaving as he gave a shit eating grin.

_Holy shit._

I could see the slight bulge in the crotch of his pants. My mouth fell open and I could hear him chuckling, his hand ghosting across his thigh.

“You _sack_ of _shit_ ,” I had to bite my lip to keep from smiling. For some reason, the shit was funny. His reaction was funny - he stared up at me with a smile and those big, puppy dog eyes.

_This can’t be happening._

_No fucking way…_

“Simon is going to _kill_ you.”

“Simon won’t know, and even then, he won’t _fucking care_. He and I have fucking _talked_ ,” Negan grunted, shifting in his seat as his erection finally became uncomfortable. “He knows you fucking want me.”

“Sure,” I rolled my eyes, starting for the door. Negan’s strong hand grasped my arm. I didn’t resist, glancing over at him.

_God, he’s handsome…_

_No._

_No way you want to indulge him —_

_Fuck!_

“If you want to fucking leave, then leave,” Negan slowly released my arm, looking surprised when I didn’t budge. “Or you could help me out with this shit,” he gestured to his erection.

I shifted on my feet, trying to quell the familiar tightness in my lower stomach. I heard Negan’s belt hit the floor, followed by the sound of a zipper.  

“How hard did he fuck you?” Negan breathed against my leg.

“H-hard,” I mumbled, gulping.

“What did he fucking do to you. Go fucking slow so I can fucking…hear it,” Negan peered up at me, eyes twinkling as he grasped his cock in one hand, thumb swirling over the leaking head. His breathing was coming out in short pants as I opened my mouth and continued, painfully aware that my legs were practically turning to jelly.

“He, uh…I put my mouth around his dick…”

“Uh-huh.”

“And he came.”

“Where?”

“ _What_?”

“ _Where_ did he fucking come? On your face? On your fucking tits?” Negan grunted, slowing his pumps on his dick and meeting my eye. My gaze shifted down and I clenched my fists, though not in anger.

“My, uh, mouth,” I stammered.

“Did you fucking swallow?”

“No,” I tilted forward, righting myself with Negan’s free hand reached out to squeeze my hip. Negan was having a hard time speaking as he thrust into his hand.

He stood, and I nearly tripped over my own feet as my back his the table. I was forced to look into his eyes as he jerked himself off, his dick dangerously close to my lower stomach.

“Keep fucking talking.”

“Yeah,” I breathed, glancing down once more. “He had me on my hands and knees—”

“How did his dick feel—”

“Let me finish,” I whispered, standing on my tiptoes so I could gently press my lips against the shell of Negan’s ear. I could feel something hot and wet brush against my stomach as I said, smiling, “It was big and thick and it fucking _hurt_ sliding in. He had his fingers in my pussy-”

“Ah, shit,” Negan grunted. I chuckled, moving my mouth from his ear to his cheek and finally, his mouth. His kiss was sloppy, desperate. I groaned when his free hand gently palmed my breasts.

He shuddered, lurching forward as he came, painting my shirt with pearls of milky white.

“You should be _ashamed_ ,” I chided. Negan buried his face in the crook of my neck, letting out stammering chuckles. “This shit is fucking _gross_ , bro.”

“But you fucking like it,” Negan murmured against my skin.

_He was right._

_Pot call kettle black, homie._

I’d come as well - probably. I could feel an uncomfortable wetness in my nether regions. I planted both palms on Negan’s broad chest, pushing him away. He began to tuck himself back in, reaching down to grab his belt.

I glanced down at myself.

“I’m not leaving like this,” I said. “Go get me another shirt.”

“The fuck was that?” Negan grasped Lucille, testing her weight.

“I said, go get me a shirt.”

“Go get me a shirt…?”

“Please. Fucking _please_ , you dickbag.”

“Language,” Negan whistled returning Lucille to her rightful place resting against his shoulder. “Say shit like that again to me, and I might have to punish your ass. Just like Simon did.”

“We didn’t do anal,” I stomped my foot, and Negan doubled over laughing. As he left, he called over his shoulder.

“In all do time, Rachel. In all do fucking time.”


	7. Chapter 7

I'd keep forgetting Simon was so _strong._

_The boy lifts you up like you weight nothing._ _Absolutely nothing_ _\- that shit is insane!_

"Simon," I giggled against his lips. "I have to go — _Simon_ —"

My back unceremoniously hit the mattress and I couldn't help but laugh. My nails raked against his bare chest and my body moved on it's own accord.

"No, no," Simon mumbled, pressing several kisses against my mouth. "Stay."

I peered up at Simon, stroking his cheek before rolling out from under him. I tossed Simon his shirt and he caught it. We dressed, before I felt Simon's arms wrap around my waist from behind and his lips press against my cheek.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," I said quickly. "I'm…fine."

"Did Negan talk to you about—"

"He did," I turned, staring up at Simon. He furrowed his brows before smirking and nodding his head. He brushed a finger against my cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind my ears. I chuckled, ducking my head. "What are you looking at, lover boy?"

"You. I'm looking at you because you're beautiful."

"No, I'm—"

"You are," Simon gripped my forearms. He leaned down slowly, giving me another kiss, this one longer and sweeter than before.

"I have to go," I pulled away, glancing at the floor as Simon's fingers stroked my bare forearms.

_Don't tell me you feel bad._

_You should! You let Negan bust a nut all over your clothes!_

My shoulders slouched as I entered the empty medical room, glancing around. Inventory was taken, the place was clean…

_Shit._

_You're thinking again._

_You need those books._

I paced around the room, arms crossed over my chest. My brain was spinning, my head bobbing up and down as I slowly formed a plan in my mind.

_Get in the truck. Ride to Hilltop. Talk to Harlan, and then hop back in._

_You can do that, can't you?_

I ran fingers through my hair, grunting and pulling up a chair. Almost immediately, my gaze shifted and I peered out the window. I could see the small caravan of trucks, sitting, destined for Hilltop. My fingers began to shake until I mustered up the courage to stand and head out the door. I trotted down the steps, trying to keep a low profile as I headed for the Sanctuary's courtyard. I tiptoed to the closest truck, which had already been filled to the brim with boxes of supplies. I hefted myself up, scooting out of the way as several saviors walked by, none of them noticing my slender frame tucked in the corner of the truck. I crawled behind several boxes, making sure to keep my head down.

_Just…wait. They should be leaving soon. They always leave soon._

My head slumped against my knees. It took almost a hour for me to doze off, my body curled in on itself. The jolt of the truck roused me from my sleep, and I nearly leaped up in alarm before I realized where exactly I was.

I could hear voices from the front of the truck, filtering through the cracks. Familiar voices.

Negan and Simon.

_Negan? Negan never goes to Hilltop…_

I craned my neck, wincing as my muscles protested. I got on my knees, glancing around the dark truck.

"…Can you _believe_ Rick the fucking Prick? I mean, I know the dude has a stick up his ass, but really? I really didn't want to have to fucking bash Lucille against someone's skull today, but, you know…"

"Yeah," Simon's muffled voice reached my ears.

"Why are you fucking bouncing in your seat like that? You eager to get back already? To see your fucking _woman?_ "

"Maybe," Simon said gruffly. "You know how that stuff is…"

"Yeah, I fucking know. You like her a whole fucking lot, don't you?"

"Is that weird? It's sounds like you think that's weird," Simon replied.

Negan's laugh was deep and almost… _seductive_. "It's not fucking weird. It's just…funny. Funny to see you so love struck, Simon, especially after I beat my dick and came all over your girls stomach."

My breath caught in my throat, and I curled back into my self. Simon didn't reply for a long while, and I could hear someone - either him or Negan - tapping their foot against the truck floor.

"We talked about this," Simon finally said. "And you remember what I said."

"That we should fucking talk to her?"

"Yeah. That's just how I would go about it. I know a thing or two about the ladies, Negan."

"Oh, I know. Man, I'm fucking jealous. I mean, that doctor threw herself at you."

"Rachel, yeah," Simon chuckled. "I don't know what she see's in me…"

"I don't know what she fucking sees in either of us," Negan's laugh was sad and laced with self-loathing. "We're two pathetic fucking losers."

_That makes three of us._

Simon and Negan's playful banter turned crude after a while - _how many times daily does Negan mention his dick? Or a dick of some kind?_ I almost dozed off again, but the truck pulled to a quick stop. So quick that I nearly fell forward.

_There's no way…_

I squinted, before creeping forward and poking my head from between the dark flaps covering the back of the truck.

_This wasn't Hilltop._

_Oh…you have fucked up indeed. Nice one!_

This was Alexandria. I recognized the walls and I recognized Rick Grimes, standing tall and proud next to some lady with a haircut that reminded me of He-Man or that coconut dude from _Ned's Declassified_. I hopped from the truck, staying down and creeping behind the line of saviors.

I was stuck. If I made myself known, I'd get a scolding. Or maybe Negan would kill me, who knew. I didn't trust myself to make a beeline for Hilltop. All scenarios in which I made it out of this shit-show unscathed were pretty much nonexistent.

I could see the back of Simon's head. Simon and Arat _both_. Negan's words were just a portion of what was going on in my brain.

The sound of gunfire and Negan's shout of surprise snapped me out of my trance.

_That went from 0 to 100 real quick!_

Bullets bounced off the truck and I yelped, turning away, my back to the carnage. When I glanced over my shoulder I saw Savior after Savior fall and Rick being held at gunpoint by the chick with the bad haircut.

_Shit._

_Don't get involved._

_Don't._

I couldn't bring myself to pick up a gun and join the fight. The thought of possibly hitting someone - Rick, or his kid…I cringed at the thought. Hell, for all I knew, _Maggie_ was inside those walls as well.

_I'd gotten my ass captured to protect her in the first place!_

I took another glance and saw Negan and Simon advancing inside the walls. I crouched down, teeth chattering, fingers twitching.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

Looking around, I threw myself at a fallen Savior, pulling the machete from his dead, clenched hand. I followed in Simon's general direction, ducking down. The air was filled with smoke and the caustic smell of death and gunpowder.

Oh, shit. Ugh!

An undead hand reached for me. I cut through it's head, kicking it away and spinning wildly. I'd lost them. Negan and Simon. Amongst the chaos they'd disappeared.

My initial thought was the calm the situation. Try and chill everyone out before more people died. Looking around at the bodies and hearing the sheer amount of gunfire promptly changed my mind.

They were too far gone. There was no such thing as peace - not anymore

_Damage control, then. Yeah. You're good at that_.

I saw the back of Negan's head, first, followed by the crouched, injured figure of Rick Grimes along with his son. My _get the fuck out of dodge_ senses were tingling, but I made my way over.

_You can't run from this._

_Negan doesn't look happy. He looks, uh pissed._

_"Hey,_ " I called. Negan's head shot up. A dozen pairs of eyes fell on me as I approached, bloody machete in hand. Simon's expression went from startled to confused to _angry._

_"What the fuck are you doing here?"_

Negan and Simon both shouted with equal intensity. I stepped forward, painfully aware that the lady with the bad dye job was staring at me, lips curled into a smile that reminded me very much of a cockroach. She was standing _way_ to close to Negan for my liking.

Not that I was jealous. Crazy bitch smelled like _ass_ \- the odor invaded my nostrils from two meters away.

"I just wanted to say," I said slowly, "I know ya'll got some Call of Duty shit going on here, and, uh, I appreciate that. Ya'll are doing _excellent_. Just letting you know that I'm here. Ready to take orders. Sir."

Silence. Rick was panting and his son had his single eye clenched shut, his hat lying abandoned next to him.

I assumed that the creature I saw in my peripheral was a dog. A very, large dog. But it wasn't. Dog's didn't make that type of sound, and there sure as _fuck_ weren't any orange dogs in the world that I knew of.

_That's not a dog. That's not a dog. THAT'S NOT A DOG!_

Over two hundred pounds of tiger landed on me, the impact like a freight train. I loved animals, I really did, and for a split second I wished I could appreciate the luscious, furry coat and beautiful ombre eyes of this tiger.

But I couldn't. Because it's teeth were way to close to my face. I didn't feel its teeth sink into me, but I did hear and see the gunfire and the blood.

_So much fucking blood._ The screams that came from me weren't human. I managed cover my face with my hands and roll away as heavy gunfire distracted the tiger. It leaped away, and I heard the shriek of its next unfortunate victim.

"Ah, shit."

I was numb and in shock. I felt my mangled shoulder, rubbing the coppery blood between my fingers before glancing down at my stomach and thigh. The tigers claws had left tattered flesh and ripped fabric in its wake.

"Oh, shit, oh, shit," I craned my neck. A shadow fell over me, and I closed my eyes, expecting it to be one of Rick's men coming to put me out of my misery.

It was Simon.

"Hang on," his hands hovered over my body, before he shook his head and scooped me up into his arms. I could barely lift my head as he darted across the grass, ducking through the carnage and the gunfire and that _goddamn tiger._

_I fucks with that. I want a tiger._

"Get her in the back," Arat cried. Bullets his the car before us, and I saw Arat hurry past, gun in hand, followed by a cursing Negan.

_Man. Dying sucks._

_That's what you're doing. Dying._

My back hit the truck, and I heard the black flaps move as Simon climbed in, shouting, "Arat, get in the front with Negan!"

_"So fucking long, you fucking prick asshole fuckers!"_

"Negan, c'mon!" Arat called. She yelped, crying out in pain.

"Shit!"

The truck lurched forward. Lights streamed through the flaps, which were tattered and torn from bullets. I could see Simon's face illuminated in the light as he stared down at me, unsure of what to do.

"Oh, God," Simon whimpered. "What the hell were you even thinking—"

"I don't think, homeboy, I act," I gasped, coughing, my mouth flooding with crimson. I saw Simon rummaging through the boxes for supplies, the sound of gunfire slowly fading away. I tried to smile as Simon turned his attention back to me.

The adrenaline was beginning to disappear. I could feel my wounds, now. The pain was _shocking_. The look on Simon's face wasn't comforting as he stemmed the flow of blood.

"Am I gonna die?" I whispered. "I don't wanna die, man. _Fuck._ "

"You aren't going to die."

"How was I supposed to know homie would come in clutch with a goddamn _tiger?_ " I coughed again, gasping at the sting. "I take it back…this ain't Call of Duty, this is some Skyrim shit."

"You need to stop talking," Simon said.

"I'm sorry. When I get nervous I talk," I met Simon's gaze. He was staring at me with immense, sadness, as if he knew something that I didn't. I steeled myself as blood gurgled from my mouth. "I'm not a doctor."

"What?" Simon said bluntly.

" _Fuck,_ man. I lied. I lied about, being a doctor," my chest heaved as Simon pressed harder against my wounds. "I… snuck into the truck cause I thought ya'll were going to Hilltop. I was going to meet Harlan and grab some medical books to study. I'm not a doctor - I lied to protect Maggie. She needs a real doctor like Harlan to..deliver the baby."

" _Maggie_ \- that widow girl?"

"Yeah," I said. "She's been alive this whole time, man. Hiding. Ya'll walked right by her like fucking eight times. _Dumbass._ "

Simon was laughing. He still kept a hold on me, making sure I didn't bleed to death. But he was _laughing._

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead. I could already feel myself fading away, slowly. His face was the last thing I'd see.

And I was okay with that.


	8. Chapter 8

Okay, so I wasn’t dead.

_Fuck._

I tried to sit up, but Negan’s voice caused my to very nearly leap out of my skin.

“You are in some deep, deep shit.”

_F.u.c.k._

I glanced down. I was in a drug-induced state of physical bliss. Negan’s words sounded slurred, though I knew that was an effect of the drugs. My tired eyes met his gaze and I cringed, silently pleading with him to just go ahead and _fucking end me._

_What - I bet he kept me alive just so he could kill me himself._

“I fucked up.”

“Yeah, you did fucking fuck up,” Negan snarled. “What the fuck was going through your head?”

“I don’t know.”

“Simon said you wanted to fucking help. You know what would have fucking helped? Staying the _fuck_ back like a good little girl—”

“I wanted to impress you—”

“Yeah, yeah, you did a real _fucking_ great job,” Negan pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “So fucking _stubborn_.”

“I’m alive, aren’t I?” I chuckled.

“Fucking barely.”

“Tis’ just a flesh wound,” I pressed my palm against my shoulder, wincing. I managed to sit up again, careful not to jostle the gashes over my ribcage. “I will admit, being attacked by a tiger during the apocalypse? Not expecting that.”

I could see Negan’s eyes soften. He scooted his chair closer, eyes flickering over my bandaged frame. One hand tentatively came up to rest against the back of my neck.

“Don’t fucking try and impress me again. If you want to impress, me make sure none of my men die from a fucking flu or whatever.”

I met Negan’s gaze. He was staring at me, eyebrows raised, waiting for me to acknowledge his words. I did, nodding and chuckling. His thumb brushed against the nape of my neck and he leaned forward, capturing his lips with mine.

“When you’re healed, Simon and I will be fucking waiting. Don’t fucking stress yourself until then.”

~ ~ ~

_Don’t be nervous._

_Don’t be. You know these two._

_You know them. You trust them._

I draped myself across Simon’s bare chest, my eyes lazily floating over to where Negan lay, white shirt and his shoes abandoned on the floor along with the rest of our clothes. I lazily reached out to palm his dick through his pants, feeling Simon’s hot breath against my neck.

“ _F-fuck_ ,” Negan breathed. I chuckled, pulling my hand away and kissing my  down Simon’s chest. I was well aware that Negan was watching as I promptly wrapped my lips around Simon’s dick, moaning around him as I tasted him on my tongue.

Simon grunted and sat up, tugging me into his lap. The bed shifted as Negan nestled his face against my neck, peppering the skin with bites and kisses. One hand snaked up my stomach, palming my breasts. His other hand brushed across the reddened line across my shoulder, his lips pressing against it softly. I rolled my hips, earning myself a low groan from Simon. His hand slipped beneath my panties and I let out a yelp, slamming my hands against his shoulders in surprise.

“I want to fuck her first,” Negan growled, rolling my nipple between his fingers, his voice a low, animalistic growl that caused me to shudder. I tipped my head back, giggling, impressed by his enthusiasm.

Simon looked hesitant, but I was able to lean forward and gently press a kiss against his mouth. “Sharing is caring, you know.”

“I don’t like sharing,” Simon mumbled. “Especially not…you—”

“We’ll both fuck her, how about that,” Negan snarled. “I’ll punish her ass, you play with her fucking pussy—”

“How about _no_ ,” I barked, elbowing Negan in the gut. He grunted, easing back. Simon ducked his head, eagerly wrapping his lips around my breast.

_This feels good. It feels right even though it shouldn’t, and it feels good._

“Fucking fine,” Negan growled. “God, this is so fucking hot. Come here—”

I rolled my eyes, sliding from Simon’s lap and focusing my attention on Negan. He was so fucking impatient - although, it was a bit hypocritical of me to judge. I was the same way. It was why I wasted no time in stroking Negan’s dick before straddling him, chest heaving as I raised my eyebrows, lowering myself onto him and sighing in pleasure at the outcome.

“Holy fuck,” Negan grunted, nails digging into my skin. I groaned, biting on my lower lip so hard that if bled. I could feel Simon’s big hands exploring the rest of my body from behind. I glanced behind me, my eyes focused on the rippling muscles on his back as he bent down.

“What are you — _oh_ ,” I bucked my hips instinctively as a dull pain shot up my spine, followed by the sound of Simon spreading my ass and spitting. He met my eye, unmoving. He was waiting for permission. I nodded.

Negan raised his hips a bit, hands helping me move up and down his dick. His tongue poked past his teeth and he was grinning, satisfied.

“How does that fucking feel, huh? Negan purred, eliciting another moan with a squeeze of his hand and a jolt of his hips. The bed dipped a bit as Simon placed one knee on the mattress, his opposite foot pressing against the floor. He planted one hand against the small of my back, pushing me forward until I was bent over, my lips brushing against Negan’s.

Simon gripped my hips and gently pushed his cock into my ass. Negan swallowed my scream with his mouth, one arm snaking around my waist.

The dull pain soon transformed into a twisted pleasure deep in my gut. My grunts and shrieks of pleasure were muffled by Negan’s shoulder and, occasionally his lips as he pounded into me. Simon went slow, allowing me to adjust to his girth before moving a bit faster.

“Tell me how fucking good it feels,” Negan groaned. “Fucking tell me—”

“So fucking _good_ ,” I was ashamed at how filthy my own words sounded. “ _God_ you both feel so _fucking_ good—”

“You wanted this, huh?” Simon panted, his voice faint. “You’re a _slut_.”

“I have to come — _have to_ —”

“Not until _we_ fucking say so,” Negan growled, catching my bottom lip between his teeth and increasing his merciless thrusting. “Ain’t that fucking right, Simon? Our princess doesn’t get to fucking come until we fucking say so!”

_What a bunch of bastards!_

“You are the fucking worst,” I groaned. My fists clenched against the sheets, my mouth open as Simon’s movements, rocked me back and forth. I brushed a strand of hair from Negan’s face, staring down at him.

“I can’t,” I whined, feeling myself clench around Negan’s dick as I came, the blissful feeling spreading throughout my body like dynamite. Simon gasped, hips sputtering as he pulled out and pumped thick ropes of pearly white across my lower back. I sat up, milking out the last of my orgasm and allowing Negan his own release.

I flopped onto the bed, resting my chest against Negan’s. I could feel him stroking my hair, cooing sweet words into my ear. I groaned, my limbs going slack as I finally was able to relax. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Simon’s palm ghosted against my skin, and he pressed several kisses against my neck. I was already beginning to doze off, and I heard Negan chuckle. 

“We wore her the fuck out, Simon.”

“Damn right,” Simon replied smugly. “Look at her. She can’t even keep her eyes open.”

“Fuck both of ya’ll,” I mumbled. “I mean that as an insult _and_ as an invitation.”

“Ready to go again?” Simon chided, nuzzling my neck. I was sandwiched between him and Negan, where I belonged.

“ _Fuck_ no,” I replied. “Let me rest…just…let me rest.”

They did.


End file.
